


In the Name of What We Love

by PinboardButterfly



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV) Fusion, Alternate Universe - Criminals, Alternate Universe - Police, Crime AU, Detective Alistair, Inspired by Brooklyn Nine Nine, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-21 18:48:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13747098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinboardButterfly/pseuds/PinboardButterfly
Summary: Sergeant Cullen Rutherford is brought into the SCPD precinct to help crack down on an outbreak of lyrium on the city streets, but he finds that all work and no play isn't quite how things go here. [B99-style AU].





	In the Name of What We Love

**Author's Note:**

> So after binging all four seasons of Brooklyn Nine-Nine on Netflix I started writing this, sort of as a joke, but I ended up really enjoying the style. You don't need to have seen the show to get the story, but the style and references come from B99 so if you've seen it, you'll get it. I'm planning on doing it like a little mini-series, short chapters with lots of character dialogue that builds to some sort of conclusion. We'll see.

It was an abnormal morning at the precinct. For one, everybody had arrived on time. The explanation: they were curious. For another, they were all clustered around rookie detective Alistair Theirin’s desk. It didn’t really get more abnormal than that. The fool sat there smiling, soaking up the attention like a flower in the sun. It was a rare moment that everyone could tolerate him for long enough to engage in casual chat, and he was loving every minute of it, Dorian could tell.

“I heard he’s got massive scars all over his face.”

“That’s ludicrous. Who told you that – Thom?”

“I bet he’s _pretty_. In a way that says he knows he’s pretty. You know?”

“Probably wears too much damn cologne. I hate those guys.”

A sudden, indignant snort. “Is there a reason for this inane speculation, hm? Have you all nothing better to do with your time?”

Dorian glanced up from the huddle of people surrounding Alistair’s desk. The precinct’s resident pathologist stood in front of them, arms folded over her white lab coat, eyebrow quirked just above the line of her dark purple glasses.

“Morrigan.” Alistair coughed, forced a smile, swallowed a little. “How nice of you to join us. Care to place bets?”

Morrigan brushed a strand of hair back from her face and smiled wickedly. “No. Merrill?”

“Yes?”

Merrill looked up sheepishly from where she was perched on a nearby filing cabinet, her hair tucked behind each ear, overly large eyes looking pleadingly to her colleagues for help. Dorian thought she rather looked like a deer in front of an oncoming car, what with the artificial light reflecting off her eyes. It would have been endearing, but Merrill’s eyes tended to scare him. They were just _too_ _big_. That wasn’t normal, was it?

“There are corpses requiring our attention. Or had you forgotten?”

“No! No, I hadn’t forgotten. Just curious, that’s all.”

“Oh? Pray tell, what is so interesting that you had to leave me without an assistant in the middle of an autopsy?”

At this point, Dorian interjected, if only to save Merrill from Morrigan’s black stare.

“Morrigan, it’s a special day! I’m sure those corpses can wait. They’re not going anywhere, after all.”

That last part, Dorian said with a little uncertainty. Everyone speculated that it wasn’t beyond Morrigan to pull some awful stunt with one of the bodies after she’d hinted at doing so during last year’s Halloween party as a way to ‘liven up this abysmal place’. It’d had everyone on edge ever since.

Morrigan chuckled mirthlessly, and then sighed. “I give in. What is it everyone is in such a flutter about? Has something happened to the Chief?”

Dorian shook his head, jumping down off Alistair’s desk and brushing down his shirt. He had to look presentable, after all. Who knew what kind of man Sergeant Rutherford would be?

“No, no, nothing so thrilling. No, our replacement Sergeant is supposed to arrive this morning. Sergeant Cullen Rutherford, the Chief said his name was. Certainly is a mouthful.”

Alistair choked. “Title of your sex tape.”

“ _Touché_ , Detective.” Dorian winked. “Let’s hope so, shall we?”

Morrigan made a noise somewhere between a gag and a chough. “I fail to see how any of this – ”

Rutherford stepped into the building, which is precisely when Dorian stopped listening to Morrigan’s cawing. He practically felt his mouth water. A _mouthful_ , indeed.

Sergeant Cullen Rutherford was dressed sharply in a three-piece grey suit – jacket open – carrying a black shoulder bag and a cup of coffee from the shop just around the corner. His blond hair was swept back from his face – a defined jawline, killer cheekbones, and warm, yet tired eyes. Dorian didn’t know what to look at first. He was, for once, speechless.

He stopped short when he saw the small group clustered about Alistair’s desk, and gestured awkwardly with the coffee cup hand. “Ah – um, hello. My name is Cullen Rutherford. I’m looking for Chief Lavellan?”

Before Morrigan could reduce the introduction to smoke and ruin by opening her mouth Dorian swept in front of her, took the coffee from Cullen’s outstretched hand, shook it, replaced the cup, and shot him his most winning smile.

“My, my – you must be our new Sergeant. How wonderful to meet you. The Chief is currently reviewing some evidence with Pentaghast and Vallen, but I’m sure she’d be happy to see you once she’s concluded her business. In the meantime – welcome to the department, Sergeant. My name is Dorian Pavus, and these idiots–” he gestured to the rag-tag group behind him “–are your new subordinates.”

Cullen looked a bit confused, as if he was struggling to process all this new information quite fast enough. Dorian frowned. The man did look as though he could get some more sleep. Before he could interject, however, Alistair jumped to his feet, and moved to introduce himself.

“Alistair Theirin. Detective! Recently, in fact. Recently as in yesterday. Honoured to be working with you, sir. Heard good things.”

Cullen nodded. “As have I. The precinct is supposed to be the best this side of Ferelden. And – Theirin, did you say? I hope you being the Mayor’s son isn’t going to have any effect on your work ethic, Detective.”

Alistair’s smile faltered a little, as Dorian had watched it do many a time when anyone brought up his father.

“Absolutely not, sir. Hard work is the only thing that’ll get me where I need to go.”

Cullen smiled, a weary, gentle smile, and Dorian’s heart did something strange and unnatural in response. “Excellent. And… your colleagues?”

“Oh! Right. This is our pathologist, Morrigan Araignée, and her assistant Merrill Sabrae.”

Morrigan nodded, and Merrill chirruped something halfway between a _hello there!_ and a _nice to meet you!_

“And,” Cullen said, turning his attention back to Dorian, “Pavus – you’re a detective too? Theirin’s partner, I assume?”

Dorian laughed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Not quite, Sarge. No, I’m in charge of the records room. So, come and find me when you have the need, hm?”

Cullen shot him another soft smile. “Of course. My apologies.”

“No need to apologise. After all, I am certainly dashing enough to be mistaken for a roguishly handsome yet clever and daring detective.”

Alistair snorted. “Remind me, Dorian – have you met Arainai, yet? I think you too would get on like a house on fire.”

“The ex-con you spoke to the other day? Didn’t you say he used to be a hitman?”

“I _did_.”

“Anyway,” Morrigan interjected, shooting Alistair a murderous look before turning her attention back to Cullen. “We look forward to working alongside you, Sergeant Rutherford. Tis an interesting concept, I must admit.”

Was that a shameless glance at the Sergeant’s physique as the witch sashayed away? Dorian could only wonder, watching as Merrill scampered after her like a dog to heel, waving a quick farewell to the Sergeant as they headed back down into the basement. His own position saw him down there, too – a left at the bottom of the stairs brought you out to the labs, whilst a right took you towards the records room. Dorian ardently hoped the Sergeant would find himself turning more right than left, but he conceded that it would probably not be the case. Not a lot of people had need of the old case files, not really. Dorian absently wondered if they popped down to pick up a folder just in case they worried he was feeling lonely.

“And your partner, Theirin? Have you been assigned one, yet?”

Alistair shook his head. “No, sir. Think the Chief will have the honour of doing that today.”

At which point, the door to the Chief’s office swung open.

Out stepped Chief Lavellan of SCPD, followed by Captain Aveline Vallen and Lieutenant Cassandra Pentaghast. Dorian had always admired the respect Lavellan commanded, for her size – this pretty, petite young woman, barely in her thirties, not even five foot three, with eyes that burned straight through you and into your soul. Beside her, Vallen and Pentaghast looked unusually tall – Vallen with her no-nonsense scowl and shock of red hair, and Pentaghast with a black gaze that could rival even Morrigan’s.

The precinct slowly sort of ground to a halt as the Chief cleared her throat and clasped her hands behind her back.

“Listen up, everyone. I’d like you all to give a warm welcome to our new Sergeant, Cullen Rutherford, formerly of the Calenhad Police Department.”

There was a polite round of applause; Cullen looked adorably awkward, Dorian noted. Not a man who liked to command attention if he could help it.

“I’d like you all to make him feel welcome. He’ll be helping us crack down on this outbreak of lyrium on the streets, and as of this afternoon, will be launching a full-scale task force to investigate our newest lead. Please lend him your aid in any way you can; this is an important case for the precinct.” The Chief made a small motion with her head. “Detective Theirin. My office, please. Sergeant Rutherford, you too. That’s all.”

Dorian watched Alistair leap out of his chair as though he’d been stung and followed after Cullen as the two disappeared into the Chief’s office. Pentaghast paid Dorian no heed as she swept past, but Vallen shot him a small, world-weary smile.

“That bad?”

She sighed. “That bad. Chief isn’t happy. We’re no closer to tracking down that group calling themselves the Venatori.”

“Venatori? The ones who’re distributing that new form of lyrium – what’s it called?”

“Red. Red lyrium. Don’t know if there’s a special name for it, but that’s what we’ve been referring to it as. It’s lyrium, but it’s red. And it’s making people crazy.”

Dorian shivered. “Poor fools. People don’t understand how dangerous that stuff is. What do you think she’s asking them?”

The Captain glanced back over her shoulder and shrugged. “Don’t know. Not sure how much I care. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some reports to conclude.”

When Alistair at last emerged from the Chief’s office (during which time Dorian had fetched himself an apple and a cup of coffee from the break room to pass the time) he couldn’t seem to keep a self-satisfied smile off of his face. Dorian raised an eyebrow and tossed him the apple, which he fumbled slightly before properly catching.

“So?” Dorian inquired. “Good news, I take it?”

“The best. I’ve mentioned how good I am at my job, haven’t I?”

“Many times.”

“Chief has partnered me with the new Sarge! Apparently, he’s had experience with this red lyrium stuff before – something went down at Calenhad that makes the Chief think he’ll be a valuable asset to the team, and he wants me to help him out.”

Dorian was genuinely surprised. “Look at that, Theirin. You’re making your way up in the world.”

Alistair grinned like the fool he was.

“And this Rutherford fellow – you trust him?”

The detective frowned. “Why? Shouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know. Not slighting the man in the least – he looks like a damn full course meal in that three piece – but let’s be real for a second. Those eyes of his… he looks like he’s seen a lot more than the Chief’s letting on. I’d get him to open up sooner rather than later.”

Alistair frowned, but nodded as though he understood. “I get it. See you around, Pavus.”

“Likewise, Theirin.”

Dorian hopped off of the detective’s desk and headed for the stairs. As he sipped his coffee and set foot against the stone steps, he couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes on his back. As he descended, he glanced back over his shoulder.

Cullen Rutherford hastened to avoid his gaze, and set off across the precinct floor.


End file.
